A Sword on Your Neck

As Dao Ge was speaking, a woman dressed in white had walked past the alley. She had a wide brimmed hat on her head, with a veil stretched over it, and the hand hanging from the wide sleeve was dainty and well-formed.

Qingqing felt her heart leap so suddenly it was painful. "Sister Bai," she murmured eagerly, springing up. Could it be her?

Perhaps in her searching for Xuxian she had wandered here--the same town! What were the chances of that?

Forgetting that she had sworn several times never to have anything to do with Bai Suzhen or Xuxian, and loudly declared to the moon that she didn't owe Bai Suzhen anything since she had once given her some of her spirit energy, Qingqing ran forward. She stood in the street for a moment scanning the crowd wildly, and finally spotted the wide hat some distance ahead.

Plunging into the crowd, Qingqing used her elbows unapologetically, shoving her way through. She squeezed past a bad-tempered old woman, deaf to the curses rained down on her, her parents, and her descendents, and saw with the despair that the woman in white was preparing to get into a carriage.

Ducking under a basket of dried fish and grimacing as a gale of musty sweat from someone's underarm met her nose, Qingqing doved through the crowd and came out stumbling into the little clearing made by the carriage, just as a dark, nondescript man in brown dismounted and held out his hand to escort the woman up the steps.

"Sister Bai," called Qingqing excitedly. "It's me, Qingqing!"

The woman turned slightly in her direction, but did not stop. Qingqing lunged forward and reached her hand out, as the man in brown snatched the sword at his waist.

Using a tiny burst of spirit energy from her fingertips she sent the wide hat flying, snapping the ribbons that held it in place under the woman's chin. As the veil rippled in the air Qingqing caught sight of a face, shattered like a reflection in a broken mirror by a terrible scar that disfigured it.

She caught her breath in dismay and froze as she felt the coldness of a sword blade on her throat.

"It's not her," Qingqing breathed.

"Insolent wretch," snarled the man in brown. "How dare you humiliate Her Highness?"

"Her Highness?" echoed Qingqing blankly, staring in fascination at the fine, hard eyes glaring at her with a mixture of outrage and shock.

"Yunsi, my hat!" hissed his master urgently, swiftly raising one sleeve to hide her face.

The sword dropped from Qingqing's throat and Yunsi whirled round quickly to fetch the hat that had fallen to the ground, handing it respectfully to the woman in white.

It was not Sister Bai. Qingqing realized this in a flash, feeling sick, that she was shorter than Sister Bai to begin with, and the material of her white robes was much too fine; there was silver thread embroidery all throughout it, and a snow-white jade medallion swung heavily from her belt. This was some important personage travelling incognito.

She felt someone grab her elbow and yank her into the crowd without ceremony.

"You'd better get out of here before he cuts your throat," panted Dao Ge, shoving her head down and stooping down himself as Yunsi looked about rapidly for her. "Stay low. Even if we manage to beat this guy we'd likely still get in trouble with his master. Keep your head low! Get behind that wagon now. If we're lucky they won't waste time looking for you, since they're in a hurry."

Still rather disoriented, Qingqing let him pull her through the crowd, her head squashed uncomfortably between his arm and chest, and Dao Ge bundled her unceremoniously behind the wagon, face to face with the mild-faced donkey who turned around to look reproachfully at them.

He strained to see what had happened to the carriage, and heaved a sigh of relief. "They're gone. Lucky for you, you little devil! You could have lost your head!" he scolded.

"Who was that?" Qingqing rubbed her sore neck ruefully.

Dao Ge looked blackly at her. "You should have asked that before you went to rip her hat off. Do you have a death wish? That's Xie Bingyun."

Qingqing looked sulky. "As if I care. Who's that anyway?" she retorted rudely.

Dao Ge rubbed his forehead. "Thank heavens we didn't actually become sworn brothers. I'd lose my head because of you within a year otherwise."

He lowered his voice significantly. "According to the reports, she might be none other than the true face behind Master Ying."

"Master of Shadows? Is this supposed to be some kind of folktale to scare children to bed?" scoffed Qingqing. "What a stupid name. Am I supposed to be afraid?"

Dao Ge covered her mouth hastily in scandalized horror. "Hush, you little fool, you really don't care for your life, do you? Don't show off your ignorance. Anyone in the jianghu--or in power--would know about Master Ying, the Master of Shadows. He runs the best spy network in the country, but no one knows his true identity. Rumour has it that Xie Bingyun is the real Master of Shadows."

Grudgingly, Qingqing pushed his hand off her mouth. "All right, so this Xie Bingyun is a big shot. It wasn't like I actually wanted to assasinate her, anyway. I made a mistake." She sighed. "I mistook her for someone else, that's all." Gesturing hopelessly, she said irritably, "She liked to wear all white as well. And she often veiled her face with a hat, just like that. I--I was too excited."

Dao Ge eyed her suspiciously. "So you were looking for a woman," he said dryly, and that was all, but the tone of his voice was enough. Qingqing glared at him. "Don't be stupid. Nothing romantic about it. She's just an old friend of mine. I owe her something--and we went through some things together," she said reluctantly. "I don't know where she's gone, and for a moment I thought it might have been her. That's all there is to it." She stared defensively back at him, then sank her head onto her knees with a moody expression.

"That's all there is to it," repeated Dao Ge, unconvinced.

"So there's a woman at the bottom of it," he muttered knowingly to himself, with a wry smile. "Young as he is, Little Brother Qing hasn't escaped the pangs of love."

Propping his chin on his palm, he said with careful lightness, "Well, tell me about this--ahem--strictly unromantic--lady. Quite a character, eh. Why'd she like to wear all white?"